The Mission

Cyrus was relaxing in his quarters in the Agency headquarters, polishing one of his many prized blades. Most of the agents were shaken up by the earth shattering explosion not so long ago. He found that to be a waste. But then again, he was one of the agency's top assassin's for a reason.

A knock sounded on his door and to his surprise, it was the highest leader of the agency. He stood up and greeted the man.

"I have a mission for you, Bladestorm," the leader said.

"Yes? You know you can just call me Cyrus, sir."

"Reports indicate a revolution. You need to cut off its head."

"Which is...?"

"A man, or ghost as he'd prefer, named Regenard Grey. We don't know much about him or any followers he has. But he must be eliminated."

"Understood, but without whereabouts this might be impossible, you know."

"Try the tundra."

"As you wish..."

The man exited. He was a large, well built man. Or at least, Cyrus assumed. He was so heavily modified by agency technology that Cyrus could hardly tell what he originally must have looked like. But he was not a man Cyrus would cross. He had seen him kill men with his fists. Which isn't impressive until you realize he never actually made contact with them. The tech... he never understood agency focus on it. But as long as they paid him, he wouldn't complain.

He prepared himself to set out. He wasn't called Bladestorm for nothing.

After taking a day to prepare himself, Cyrus set out. He knew they were in the tundra, but he also knew that by the time it took him to get there, they'd have left and the snow would have covered their tracks. He instead set out for the city, knowing he could make that trip more quickly and possibly find intel on the man and his followers.